


best laid plans

by marchh



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: A v self indulgent fic because i wanted to write dumpster Ed, Ed tries to be a good (if flippant) friend, Gen, Humor, M/M, Set in a post series Gotham where Jim didn’t get married and Oswald didn’t go to Blackgate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22316563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchh/pseuds/marchh
Summary: Ed can’t stand Oswald’s pining anymore, and decides he’s going to help Oswald get Jim - with his brilliant 12-point plan.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	best laid plans

All things considered, Ed Nygma is in a pretty good season of his life. Thanks to his partner in crime’s sentimental, bleeding heart, their staying in to fight for Gotham had earned them medals rather than prison jumpsuits. And when he wasn’t leisurely flitting through or crashing at one of the Penguin’s properties, or dropping by Doc’s clinic with an insane and illegal proposition, he was plenty occupied being a delightful nuisance to the city’s second smartest man, baffling the brilliant forensics officer (a job beneath him, Ed thought) with his brilliant and enigmatic heists.

Ed smiles, putting the finishing flourishes onto the thick card with his calligraphy pen. This one would lay in the vault of the museum for the cops to find, hours after he’d already made off with the Titian (which would sit very nicely in the top floor parlor of that building on 85th that Oswald had bought up cheap and had yet to make use of). 

_ Sigh. _

An overly loud, pay-attention-to-me exhale of breath jars Ed’s attention and the lime green ink smudges, ruining the perfect dot beneath his question mark. 

Ed throws his hands up, tossing the pen and card along with them.

“Okay, what is it! What are you  sighing  about, Oswald?” he snaps in irritation, only to have his friend shift in his wingbacked armchair with a petulant kick, ignoring him in favor of looking wistfully into his fireplace.

“Because  clearly  you want someone to ask. You’ve ruined my last clue, are you happy now?” Ed huffs. No response. “Oswald!”

“Hm?” 

Oswald finally looks up, and gives Ed a very bland, dead-eyed smile, before turning back to brood face-to-face with the embers. 

“You have been doing nothing but  sighing and  moping for weeks acting like your dog died-“ Ed cuts off with a gasp, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he notices the lazy bulldog dozing at his master’s feet. “And clearly that is not the case, so out with it!”

Oswald does no such thing.

Ed flexes his hands, willing himself not to strangle the man. He’d been like this ever since- 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Ever since the reopening of that Midtown subway station, now named for his mother, complete with the ostentatious avian roof-slash-sculpture design, at a ribbon cutting ceremony with Gotham’s political elite. Where Commissioner Jim Gordon attended. With Lee Thompkins back on his arm.

Oswald had taken one look at the couple and faltered, pasting on a pained, too-big smile and been shrill the rest of the day. He was so obvious. It was the sort of event he’d normally gloat at, not fret sullenly and terrorize the wait staff. And clearly Jim Gordon was (still) one of the few people who could elicit such an emotional and prolonged response from Oswald, who has ignored Ed’s proposed building plans _repeatedly_ for 12 days now and given no thought to Ed’s suggestion that he do the truly nefarious thing of entering the banking industry. Typical Oswald - so unproductive when he was heartbroken.

“Is this about Jim,” Ed deadpans. The panicked look on Oswald’s face is very telling. “Of course it’s about Jim. Okay. Just tell me how you want to kill him. I’ll help.”

“You will do NO such thing!” Oswald yelps, startling the bulldog into retreating behind the chair, safe from flailing limbs and canes.

“So you’re just going to pine away and let him walk all over you. Because that’s worked SO well for you these past six years,” Ed says. He ticks off the instances in which Jim Gordon has ruined one or both of their lives, sending them to Arkham, check, arresting them for various crimes they may or may not have allegedly committed, check, backed gangsters or criminals who were at the time enemies of one or both of them in hopes of taking them down, causing endless bloodshed and mayhem in the meanwhile, check, check, and check. Oh and taking Oswald’s putty-like heart and stomping all over it under the guise of not-quite-even friendship. There was that too. 

By the time Edward’s done listing Jim Gordon’s heinous transgressions, Oswald’s chair is empty and he is nowhere to be seen.

Ed sighs.

“I’m just going to have to take this into my own hands, aren’t I,” he tells his namesake dog.

Edward the dog just drools.

.

Ed papers the walls of his office anew and starts to plot, stringing together pictures of the key players (Oswald, Jim Gordon) along with the bit players (Lee Thompkins, Barbara Kean?, Bruce Wayne?, and Lucius Fox for good measure), pieces of key information (newspaper clippings, post-it notes, receipts he scrounged out of the commissioner’s office garbage bin), a list of planned costume changes (very important), and so on and so forth.

Reviewing recent events helps put the situation in context, and further cements Ed’s theory that time of death (of Oswald’s heart, and productivity) was 12 days ago, the scene of the crime: the ribbon cutting, cause of death: Jim Gordon rekindling an old flame in broad daylight.

The evidence makes it clear that had not certain recent events leading up to the ribbon cutting have happened, the event would not have made a difference. Jim Gordon has rebounded plenty, and often, because it is possible he is some kind of manwhore (Ed concedes he is not bad looking), but it has never yet caused Oswald to shrink away and pine so.

But oh no, for the past few months, Jim “I Need A Favor” Gordon has been pestering Oswald weekly,  at least. To talk about  _security issues_ , as they were both on the board of one of those Rebuild Gotham organizations, this one funded by the Wayne Foundation. 

Surely something Jim Gordon said or did during those  meetings  was the cause. Poor idiot, he probably didn’t even realize he was leading Oswald on. Ed wonders briefly whether Jim Gordon has it in him to use his looks and charms to his advantage in such a manipulative way (Ed concedes, again, that he is not bad looking).

He attacks his mind map with a flurry of highlighters and scribblings and red yarn and push pins, working until the late hours turn early and he emerges from his lair at seven in the morning the next day with the perfect plan, and barges into Oswald’s office to declare as much.

“I have the perfect plan,” Ed says with a flourish, brandishing a large, rolled up tube of paper, before striking a flamboyant pose that allows the paper to cascade down onto the floor with a bounce, ending with its tail on Oswald’s desk.

“Have you showered?” Oswald asks with a wrinkle of his nose.

“How to Win Jim Gordon’s Heart (and then smash it to pieces), a 12-step plan,” Ed recites, gesturing broadly with his hands in a “picture this!” sort of way and ignoring Oswald’s very rude “isn’t that for alcoholics?”.

Oswald gives him a very skeptical look.

“Okay, you don’t have to do the second half,” Ed grumbles, rolling his eyes before rolling up half the paper so as to focus on only the 12 required steps.

Oswald looks at the plan quietly, and then looks at Ed.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks in a small voice. “Why are you helping me?”

“No!” Ed slams his hand down on Oswald’s desk, making him jump. “No time for sappy emotions until we’ve cleared the 12 steps! If you want to do this I need you at your most lethal and cunning. I did not become your  friend , Oswald, so that I could have sentimental heart-to-hearts! This is why we work so well, remember? Because of my stone cold, unfeeling logic.”

“That is literally the farthest thing from the truth, we both know that,” Oswald chooses to say, and Ed chooses to ignore, instead snapping his fingers to get Oswald’s attention back on track.

“Pay! Attention!” 

Oswald rolls his eyes, but gives into curiosity and starts reading the plan.

“Are you sure? This will work?”

A devious grin creeps slowly onto Ed’s face.

“Absolutely.”

.

_ Step 1: Plant the idea. _

Ed paces the room as he monologues - it sounds simple on surface, but truly this first step is one of philosophical, and psychological mastery. Only a genius like himself could have come up with it.

“Right. An idea is difficult - impossible even - to kill. But it has to be the right one. We must distill the idea down to its simplest, rawest form,  emotional form - that is when it’s at it’s most potent,” Ed says.

Oswald gestures, exasperated. “I suggest things to people all the time! I know how to make one think it their own idea,” Oswald says. “Are you forgetting who you are talking to?”

“We need to suggest to Jim Gordon  something which leaves the impression that fate has tied your destinies together,” Ed says, ignoring Oswald’s whining.

Oswald scoffs, but looks more melancholy than petulant now.

“You mean like scheming to put my life in his hands so when he inevitably fails to pull the trigger, he not only realizes he would never kill me but that we are somehow responsible for each other?” Oswald asks with a sulk.

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

Oswald sighs long and dramatically and then gives Ed one of those winning, impatient smiles and throws his hands up.

“Fine! I will talk to Jim Gordon, and somehow plant the idea that,” Oswald starts, but then he falters.

“That he could fall in love with you.” Ed supplies. See this is why he needed his help. Couldn’t even stay on script for two seconds, when it came to Jim Gordon. 

“...right.” Oswald finishes. 

“His relationship with you right now is one of work colleagues. We need to move you into the category of Potential Romantic Partner.”

Oswald squints at him.

“Didn’t someone end up dead the last time you tried to have an office romance?”

“And!” Ed yells, deflecting. “Jim Gordon’s own office romance has failed catastrophically as well! He may subconsciously be shying away from putting himself in a similar situation in the future, so you will have to cement the idea that you are NOT in the work category.”

“Your relationship with Jim Gordon has changed,” Ed continues dramatically, and Oswald looks up in alarm for a moment. “You have been allies and you have been adversaries. Surely you know what shifts brought about those changes. Use that to somehow suggest to Jim Gordon that you should be looked at not as an enemy, not as a mere ally on the committee, not a fellow board member, or even friend. Oswald! We are talking about  romance!”

Oswald shuffles papers on his desk absently, which Ed takes to mean he’s received the message loud and clear, and Ed straightens his own lapels and clears his throat.

“And then while you work on step one, I will proceed to step two,” Ed says.

“What’s step two?” Oswald asks.

_ Step 2: Scope out the competition. _

“For step two, I shall be paying a visit to the Doc”- Oswald rolls his eyes at this -“putting a tail on Barbara Kean, and doing some reconnaissance to see whether women of similar profiles have recently entered Jim Gordon’s life.”

That causes Oswald to frown at his shuffled papers.

“What?”

“One of the members of the board...no, that doesn’t matter! If he’s dating Lee, again, what does any of that matter!” Oswald huffs. 

“We need to know what you’re up against, Oswald,” Ed says, pushing up his glasses. “This is basic stuff.”

“If we can define their weaknesses, we can make sure to present you in a light that points out you  lack these weaknesses, in turn also making them seem glaringly obvious. So much so he won’t be able to unsee them.”

Oswald gives Ed a dubious look.

“Well, I am off then,” Ed says. “You have that meeting with Jim Gordon Wednesday - the perfect time to implement step one. You should have the meeting at your place on 57th.”

Oswald frowns.

“The hotel?”

“The restaurant on the ground floor,” Ed says. “It’s homey.”

“It’s Michelin starred.”

“Trust me. It’s part of the plan.”

.

“You have the gall to rope my  son into one of your harebrained schemes??!?” Oswald shrieks, and Ed has to make clever use of office furniture to keep his friend from bashing in his skull with an umbrella.

Oswald had indeed texted Jim that they could meet at the restaurant on 57th, and as Midtown traffic would have it, everyone arrived late just a tad late (which Ed had foreseen, of course).

Oswald and Jim Gordon had arrived nearly at the same time, bumping into each other at the lobby blah blah blah Oswald was flustered blah blah exchange of pleasantries and other boring things which technically did happen but Ed does not care to remember. 

The point  is, as Ed had tried to explain before Oswald thwacked him with an umbrella, the sunny rustic cottage kitchen feel of the restaurant paired with French fare so familiar to Oswald’s adopted son made for an incredibly homey feel. Jim Gordon was the sort of man who  thought he wanted a white picket fence, a perpetually warm and loving kitchen where he could typically find his spouse, a son, and probably a dog.

This was the perfect opportunity to show him that Oswald could give him just that - and smack dab in the middle of Gotham! Because what Jim Gordon really wanted was the grit and grime of this crummy city, the same seedy underbelly horrors that Oswald loved so much, and seeing Oswald was reminder enough of that stuff, so Ed really had to lay on the “cozy home” schtick.

_Step 3: Show him your future together._

They’d gotten seated and comfortable and presumably Oswald was implementing step one, until a little curly-haired boy ran full speed toward their table and collided hard with Oswald in a breathless hug.

“Martin??” Oswald had been immediately filled with joy, and subsequently worry. Worry which turned into  fury when he saw Ed was behind this.

Despite the city being “safe” again, Oswald had sent Martin to a boarding school in the boring waspy suburbs two and a half hours away and himself made regular trips to visit, though the visits were nearly always in one direction. 

So yes, he did get a bit overprotective mama bear at having his son pulled out of school in the middle of the week without his knowing, and yes, possibly Ed should have also foreseen this and found a way to implement this step without incurring such wrath. 

Mainly, however, it was that Ed seemed to have misjudged Jim Gordon. He had put together the scene with the intention of showing the commissioner a dream - a dream within reach - but crucially he forgot to take into account Jim Gordon’s inability to grasp dreams for himself.

He saw the tearful happy reunion and impending family spat and begged off, telling Oswald the security matter wasn’t that urgent, remember, so it was perfectly fine to reschedule so that he could spend the afternoon with his son.

  
And Jim Gordon had left.

Oswald indeed spent the nice afternoon with his son, before storming back into Ed’s office brandishing a cane in one hand and umbrella in the other. 

“It nearly worked! Okay?!” Ed yells, and Oswald doesn’t calm down so much as run out of breath, red-faced and huffing. “Now do you want to waste time yelling about your VERY NICE LUNCH-“

“Tea! You don’t have lunch at three in the afternoon, you-“

“OR DO YOU WANT TO COMMENCE WITH STEP FOUR?” Ed asks, loudly, as if he was talking to an elderly citizen, who many years ago started to lose his hearing.

Oswald scowls, and puts Ed’s umbrella back in its holder.

“What’s step four?” he asks begrudgingly. Yeesh. It’s as if Ed hadn’t already written down and laid out the whole plan in front of his face just days ago!

_ Step 4: Endanger his life and play hero. _

“I’m sorry, what?” Oswald asks, faux-polite smile sharp and ready to snap.

“This step serves many crucial purposes,” Ed explains from a safe distance. “First, we flip the script - you become savior while he gets in touch with his own vulnerability. Second, there is the adrenaline-induced bonding, which will speed up the  whole process and may even result in, well,  physical intimacy to cope in the immediate aftermath, which could, very likely, work in your favor. Third, it will make him look up to you, and that’ll just lodge right in there in his subconscious.”

Oswald is staring, and Ed thinks this is a good sign, until he stomps his foot and throws his third hissy fit of the day.

“No!! I am NOT endangering Jim’s life, and not so I can play hero! And he is perfectly capable of fighting off whatever goons or hit men you send his way. You know that! It’s happened twice a year since he moved to Gotham! Everyone knows that!” Oswald’s anger peters out more quickly than his usual tantrums, however.

“This is stupid, Ed, forget it!” Oswald says, trudging out of his office without so much as a backward glance.

Somehow, Ed doesn’t think Oswald means just step four.

.

Ed lets the situation cool between them, opting not to call in on Oswald the rest of the day. Or the next. And he’s contemplating the next day too, but gets up off his butt and heads over to Oswald’s usual haunt.

“Hello Oswald,” he says brusquely. His typical greeting, nothing more nothing less.

Oswald gives him a wry look, then gestures for him to sit.

“It was a nice thought, but terrible plan,” Oswald says, obviously having gotten clarity from the cool down. “I appreciate the gesture, and I would also appreciate you never, ever giving anyone relationship advice, ever again.”

Ed studies his nails, attempting to take it all in stride.

“Duly noted,” he says.

“Especially since-“

Oswald drops off, though he can’t think why. Especially since Ed has the worst track record in the history of Gotham’s relationships, right? Sure. He knows that. It’s old news. It’s-

“Jim!” 

Ed looks up to see Oswald shining like the sun and Commissioner Jim Gordon standing by their table with a lopsided smile. He resists valiantly the urge to roll his eyes.

“Hey Oswald,” he says, casual as anything. “Just on my way up.” 

Because the bistro was on the ground floor of a Wayne building, of  course.

“But since you’re here, I wanted to ask. You wanna get dinner this weekend? I know it’s short notice, so if you’ve got plans, especially with Martin visiting, that’s fine, but I ‘ve been meaning to ask you on a proper date now forever, and I saw you, and figured I’d bite the bullet. Bad metaphor. You know what I mean.”

Halfway through Jim’s speech, Ed has turned his head, slowly, slowly, until he is staring holes into the side of the man’s face.

Was he asking Oswald out on a  date?

So  _ casually? _

Out of the  blue??

After Ed had spent  countless hours crafting the perfect plan that had now been laid to waste?? 

He is a split second from turning to Oswald to tell him to do the vindictive thing and tell Gordon to buzz off! But Oswald has already beaten him to the punch and has accepted the invitation to dinner with a happy “Yes! Of course” taking his hands in his own, and making plans for that restaurant he knows Jim likes for Saturday, and watching with wonder as the man turns red and sheepish and says he was thinking of inviting him over and he’d cook, because he’d been taking classes just recently, and actually that was where he had bumped into Lee and finally called it a truce - reconciliation over Hungarian cuisine apparently - which was why the two were so chummy afterwards when they shared a cab to the ribbon cutting ceremony.

Ed is sure Oswald is  _ this close _ to crying tears of joy and Jim Gordon is no doubt going to open his mouth and reveal more bad news or the squashing of Ed’s plans, and he has no intention of sticking around for that sort of punishment, not when the bank vault two blocks down is calling out to him just waiting for an illicit visitor.

Ed slips away and sneaks out the door, but on his way out gives one last glance over his shoulder at the happy new couple. He shakes his head, torn between “who would’ve thought?” and “it’s about time.”


End file.
